was brought in.

When they had all gone and the cabin was dark, save for the gleam from
the nightlight which the careful mother had placed out of sight in the
basin at the foot of the bunk, Harold lay a long time in a negative
state, if such be possible, in so far as thought was concerned.

Presently he became conscious of a movement of the child his arms; a
shuddering movement, and a sort of smothered groan. The little thing was
living over again in sleep the perils and fears of the day. Instinctively
she put up her hands and felt the a round her. Then with a sigh clasped
her arms round his neck, and with a peaceful look laid her head upon his
breast. Even through the gates of sleep her instinct had recognised and
realised protection.

And then this trust of a little child brought back the man to his nobler
self. Once again came back to him that love which he had had, and which
he knew now that he had never lost, for the little child that he had seen
grow into full womanhood; whose image must dwell in his heart of hearts
for evermore.

The long night's sleep quite restored Pearl. She woke fairly early and
without any recurrence of fear. At first she lay still, fearing she
would wake The Man, but finding that he was awake--he had not slept a
wink all night--she kissed him and then scrambled out of bed.

It was still early morning, but early hours rule on shipland. Harold
rang for the steward, and when the man came he told him to tell Mr.
Stonehouse that the child was awake. His delight when he found the child
unfrightened looking out of the port was unbounded.

CHAPTER XXVI--A NOBLE OFFER

That day Harold passed in unutterable gloom. The reaction was strong on
him; and all his woe, his bitter remembrance of the past and his
desolation for the future, were with him unceasingly.

In the dusk of the evening he wandered out to his favourite spot, the
cable-tank on top of the aft wheelhouse. Here he had been all alone, and
his loneliness had the added advantage that from the isolated elevation
he could see if anyone approached. He had been out there during the day,
and the Captain, who had noticed his habit had had rigged up a canvas
dodger on the rail on the weather side. When he sat down on the coiled
hawsers in the tank he was both secluded and sheltered. In this peaceful
corner his thoughts ran freely and in sympathy with the turmoil of wind
and wave.

How unfair it all was! Why had he b